


Crash

by TourmalineQueen



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed Bro'Hood
Genre: Angst, M/M, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Assassin's Creed Kinkmeme<br/><b>Prompt:</b><br/><i>The reason Shaun always goes to sleep last and works himself into exhaustion is because he has serious nightmares/night terrors. Perhaps of the death of his family since he wasn't born into the order.</i></p><p>The others find out. Pairings are optional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> **Potentially triggery for car crash victims**

**Disclaimer:** Ubi's toys, I'm just playing with them 

*-*-*

"Goodnight, everybody," Lucy murmured.

"'Night, Lucy."

"G'night."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite. Seriously, we're out of bug spray," Rebecca joked.

"Oh splendid, thank you for that lovely thought, Rebecca," Shaun grumbled.

"I love you, too, Shaun," she cackled back.

"Goodnight Jim-Bob!" Shaun called out sarcastically.

"Shut the fuck up, guys! I wanna get some actual sleep before waking up screaming," Desmond said, half serious.

"Pipe down all of you, and go. To. Sleep!" Lucy ordered.

Meekly they all muttered their last goodnights and snuggled into their sleeping bags.

It was a few hours later when they were woken by screaming. Desmond's eyes snapped open, and he was breathing hard. Rebecca turned her music player up and rolled over, and Lucy either remained asleep or did a very good job of pretending to.

"Shaun?" Desmond whisper-called.

The screaming did not abate. The historian was in the throes of a major night terror. Desmond sighed and got out of his bedroll, stumbling slightly as he got his bearings, and made it over to Shaun's side.

"Hey, hey - Shaun? It's okay," Desmond said, gently shaking Shaun's tense shoulder. "It's okay."

Shaun's eyes suddenly blinked wide open, although Desmond couldn't be sure if the man was awake or if it was a part of the night-terror cycle. He had stopped screaming, but he was breathing hard, like he'd run a marathon. Desmond knelt down beside him, and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Dad?" Shaun whispered.

"No, Shaun, it's me, Desmond. You're in the Sanctuary at the Auditore Villa in Italy. It's the middle of the night," Desmond said quietly, hoping the facts would ground his friend's mind in the present.

"Oh, Jesus, oh God," Shaun moaned, swiping a hand over his eyes. He was still breathless and slightly hoarse from his screaming.

"Shaun? You okay?" Desmond asked.

"I ... I'll be fine," Shaun murmured, sounding unsure of himself.

"Come on, up you get," Desmond said, dragging Shaun up as he stood.

"Wh-where?" Shaun asked shakily.

"You need air," Desmond decided.

They kicked the sleeping bag aside and with Desmond supporting Shaun with an arm about his shoulders they made their way shakily to the stairs out of the Snctuary.

"It's daylight hours," Shaun protested feebly.

"So we'll just sit in Zio Mario's study," Desmond said easily.

"He's not your Uncle," Shaun groused irritably.

Desmond shrugged, almost sending Shaun crashing into the wall.

"He's Ezio's family, and so am I, so I figure I can call him uncle if I want. Besides which, maybe I am Ezio for the purposes of this conversation, which makes him my uncle. Now sit," Desmond ordered, pushing Shaun down among the detritus of destroyed books littering the room.

"Yes, Mother," Shaun snarked, shuffling over so that his back was to the wall beside the door, and drawing his knees up to rest his chin on.

Desmond sank down beside him. They sat like that for a few lovely long minutes, the silence comfortable and companionable, for once. At some point Desmond absently picked up Shaun's hand and clasped it tightly.

"So I thought I was the only nutcase on the team with wake-us-all-up-screaming privileges," Desmond said casually after a while.

Shaun grunted and shrugged. "We all have demons, Desmond. Don't assume you're special just because you're the only one who can save us all."

"I'm so glad I have you in my life to stop me getting a big head from all the specialness of our situation," Desmond grinned. "Now spill."

Shaun shrugged again and turned his head away. "What do you want to know?"

"What were you dreaming about? It'll eat you up inside if you don't talk about it," Desmond said softly. "I should know, I'm the Captain of Eaten-Up-Inside."

Shaun gave an unamused huff of laughter, and returned his gaze to the slit of Monterriggioni that could be seen sideways out the door. He was silent for so long that Desmond wondered briefly if he'd gone back to sleep.

"Ever been in a car crash, Desmond?" Shaun asked softly.

Desmond shook his head, but Shaun wasn't even waiting for an answer.

"I've been in two, and lived. Bad ones. Most people don't even face one and walk away unscathed. The second one was a few years ago, and had been ... let's say ... arranged. Rebecca got me out of Abstergo's clutches by causing the truck - with me in it - to go off the road.

I walked away without a scratch, just a touch of whiplash, but the Templars all died either from broken necks or the fire that erupted when the petrol tank - sorry gas tank, I keep forgetting you're a Yank - exploded. That was the second crash I lived through," Shaun said, speaking mostly in a monotone.

"Was that your dream?" Desmond asked, sure of the answer already.

"No. I had nightmares for a month or two after that, mostly about the poor unsuspecting bastards that just worked for Abstergo - the ones that had no idea who or what they worked for. Then I realised that I had never worked for Abstergo even before I knew who or what they were about and I got past it."

"So your dream tonight..." Desmond prompted.

"Was about the first crash. I was ... what ten? Maybe? God it's bad I can't even remember what age I was, but I can remember the fire licking around the boot of the car - sorry, trunk, Yank," Shaun muttered, and Desmond knew he was trying to hide his hurt with insults.

"Can't help being American, man. But I know what the boot of a car is - intimately, if you want to tell the story from the beginning?"

Shaun squeezed Desmond's hand, gripping him like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He took a few hard, deep breaths.

"I had pestered them to take me to America for years, Desmond. Years. We worked hard, saved harder, both my Mu- mother and father working so very hard to give me this trip of a lifetime. And after getting two nights in New York, and hiring the car, we drove off to see "America" like they do - did - in movies and on the telly. Upstate New York. The first day on the road something happened - I don't even remember what. I remember us all singing about The Ladies of the Harem of the Court of King Caractacus, and - and then the car was flipping, rolling, hitting things, she was screaming, I was - I - I - can't - breathe," Shaun's words had come faster and faster, he had tensed completely, and was wheezing for air.

Desmond rubbed Shaun's back and pushed his head between his knees, encouraging him to take slow, deep breaths. Shaun's arms came about Desmond then, and he clung to him like he was a life preserver. Shaun's shoulders shook, and he buried his face in Desmond's shoulder. Desmond murmured soothing nonsense to Shaun. Finally Shaun took some quaking breaths and looked at Desmond through grief-stricken, red-rimmed eyes.

"I crawled out of that car, and I lived, Desmond, but it was in flames before either of them could wake, and neither lived to see... Anything. The paramedics pronounced them dead at the scene. I still don't know how the ambulance got there so fast. That was my nightmare, Desmond. Are you satisfied?"

"Yeah. You needed to tell *somebody* that story, Shaun, and the girls would have been way too sympathetic. Yes it was terrible, and I'm sorry, but at least it was an accident, man. I wake up screaming most nights because Giovanni was a better father to me than mine, and Federico and Petruccio were like my brothers, too, and every time I see them - like Ezio - I want to help them, to save them and I can't because Uberto Alberti was the wrong man to trust and it's a fixed point in history that can never be changed. And it sucks," said Desmond.

"It does suck. It sucks big, fat monkey balls," said Shaun defiantly.

"Where in the name of all that is unholy did you learn that?" Desmond asked, chuckling helplessly. "It sounds ridiculous in your accent!"

"I must have hear it somewhere," Shaun mumbled, trying and failing to sound innocent.

They both burst into laughter that was mostly genuine and slightly hysterical.

"Come on, the girls will be worried about us," Desmond said eventually, when he managed to control his giggling.

"No they won't, they'll think Abstergo got us and will be relieved not to have to live with messy boys," Shaun grinned, standing and offering Desmond his hand.

"Promise me something, Shaun?" Desmond asked, grin fading, "promise me you'll talk about your nightmares? I can't, not really with the Bleeding Effect and whatnot, but you? You have a chance to be normal. Don't fuck it up on me."

Shaun slung an arm around Desmond's neck, unconsciously mirroring Desmond's actions from earlier. "Desmond, love, there's something I think you need to know about me. I'll always be more normal than you!"

  
*-*-*


End file.
